


All I Want for Christmas is You

by Emptylester (timelordangel)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 2016, Christmas, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Secret Relationship, merry christmas!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-12 03:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9053632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordangel/pseuds/Emptylester
Summary: In which Dan is the best present Phil could have asked for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Quick sappy Christmas fic based off this artwork http://pinofs.tumblr.com/post/154902640020 done by pinofs.tumblr.com. Merry Christmas!

“You sure you’ll be okay?” Phil’s voice is a sleepy whisper from where they lie side by side in his bed, their respective non-dominant hands loosely on one another. 

Dan responds only with a look that doesn’t exactly mean yes but not quite no, instead conveying a dissatisfied medium of “I’ll live but I won’t be happy about it”. 

Phil rolls his eyes and gives Dan’s hand a quick squeeze that means only one thing- you will. 

Phil leaves the front door thirty-six minutes later with bags in hand and Dan kisses him firmly with his eyes open. He’s close enough to focus on the water stains on the insides of Phil’s glasses. They’d cried a bit together last evening and then had the kind of slow quiet sex that lingered into the early hours of the morning. 

Despite their attempts, no send off could prepare Dan for the quiet tomb their flat becomes when one of them goes on holiday. As he settles into the sofa with a bag of crisps and his laptop, he smiles slyly to himself. 

 

“Can you believe,” Martyn pauses for dramatic effect, “Phil performed to over seventy-nine sold out shows this year! Bloody hell!” 

That’s not quite true, not really. They did some of those in twenty fifteen and they definitely were not all sold out, but Martyn is drunk and happy and everyone in their family keeps slapping Phil on the back and handing him more drinks even three days after he arrived.

Phil grins, shakes his head, and says loudly, “I’ll drink to that!” 

He has a paper crown half on his head and one of Dan’s Christmas jumpers on (sh, all his were dirty when he left and Dan has twenty) and he should theoretically be just as drunk and giddy as everyone else here. Yet his eyes keep sliding to his lap where his phone sits on his thigh. 

“Hey,” Martyn slides onto the couch beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders, “Sorry to draw the attention to you up there-“

Phil’s already shaking his head, forcing a smile, “No, it’s alright. You deserve some of that credit, you were right there with me.” 

“Thanks for employing me, little brother.” Martyn can’t help the giant grin that spreads across his face. “How’s Dan?”

His voice drops to what a drunk person might assume is a whisper when he mentions Dan’s name, as if it’s a secret. As if Dan is Phil’s secret counterpart; as if they don’t share a life with each other and the world. 

“He’s good,” Phil says firmly. 

This satisfies Martyn and he’s off again, couch hopping from relative to relative. Phil’s thigh buzzes. 

Dan Howell 

/What’s up?/

Phil considers telling the truth, but he imagines that telling Dan he’s drunk (barely) and celebrating TATINOF with his family might upset him, so he settles on a half-truth.

/Just talking with the family, you?/

Dan Howell

/I woke up at three to an empty house. Not sure./

Phil

/You woke up thirty minutes ago? Lol why/ 

Dan Howell

/It’s hard to fall asleep without you./

Phil

/:( /

Dan doesn’t reply until almost half an hour later when Phil’s another drink in and his entire family is playing charades. 

Dan Howell

/Can you skype?/ 

Phil’s heart swells in his chest and he nudges his mum beside him and shows her the text. Catherine puts a hand on his thigh and says quietly, “Go, it’s okay.” 

Phil 

/Yeah, one sec/

Dan Howell

/:)/ 

When Phil stands to go there is a chorus of protests and Phil genuinely considers, for the second time today (but the hundredth time in the past six years) just telling them all. My boyfriend wants to talk for a minute; I’ll be right back! But Phil is smart and he knows telling even one person is actually telling so many more, so he shakes his head and lets his irritation be taken for something it isn’t.

“Business issue, I’ll be back in a little bit, sorry!” Phil hates lying. 

Then he’s in the spare bedroom with his laptop and the familiar tone of Skype beeping through his headphones. His parents got better Internet ages ago, but only Dan has to know that. 

Then there’s Dan on the screen in his grey jumper and messy hair and Phil can’t help but smile.

“Hey you,” Phil murmurs, grinning.

“Hey,” Dan responds with his own soft smile. It’s a little too dark to see what room Dan is in, but his face is illuminated by the screen.

“Has your family returned?” 

“They went last minute Christmas shopping,” Dan shrugs, “So I ate all their food.”

“I miss you,” Phil forces himself to smile because he’s tipsy and he wishes Dan were here in person without this screen and distance between them. 

“Yeah,” Dan smiles back and it seems a little too genuine for Phil’s comfort. “How is your family?”

“They’re good. Maybe one year you can come with me to Christmas.” 

Dan lets out a sharp, happy laugh and Phil cocks his head. 

It’s another hour and a half before Dan says he has to go after checking the time and Phil whispers a faint “happy Christmas eve” before ending the call. 

Phil slips back onto the couch nestled between his auntie and Cornelia, who is smushed into Martyn. They’re in the middle of A Muppet’s Christmas, and Phil tries to fill the hole in his heart with the familiar joy of Christmas films. 

While Phil sips mulled wine and falls asleep against Cornelia’s shoulder, Dan locks the front door to their flat with a grin on his face. Action time.

This year, his mum had insisted upon Christmas dinner and present opening happening on Christmas Day- for whatever reason. Phil chalks it up to Catherine’s sister and husband arriving late this evening, but he’s not about to question her. 

At one point during the next film (Olive The Other Reindeer) Martyn’s phone vibrates against his thigh and Phil glances over when Martyn digs it out and frowns at the screen.

“What’s up?” Phil whispers.

Martyn gives him a look and leans to whisper something to Cornelia. She frowns, her eyebrows furrowing. 

“What?” Phil stresses, annoyed. 

“Um,” She gives him a smile, “business issue.” 

Phil rolls his eyes at the excuse he used earlier but drops it, not meaning to pry. He checks his phone again to see if Dan’s texted, but his screen lights up with no new notifications and he locks it with a faint huff.

It’s only half nine when Phil’s mum and dad tell him to go to bed.

“You’re joking,” Phil frowns. 

“St. Nick doesn’t joke around, Phil.” His dad puts a firm hand on his shoulder. 

Phil wants to assert that he’s not actually eight years old, but right now he feels slightly like he’s about to throw a fit so maybe he is. Christmas is always his favorite time of year but after watching his brother and his girlfriend cuddle all evening while his boyfriend wouldn’t even text him back- it’s been slightly harrowing. 

And now he’s being sent to bed so he doesn’t see a fictional fat man break into his house. Great. 

“Phil,” Cornelia stops him as he heads towards the stairs. 

“What?” Phil says a bit too sharply.

“Listen,” She smiles, low and secretive, “this is all for good reason. Get some rest.”

“Wh-“

“Goodnight, Phil!” She sing-songs as she retreats to Martyn’s bedroom.

Phil falls asleep no less than five minutes after removing his glasses and pulling the duvet over his chest. It’s one of the only nights of the year he’ll sleep in a shirt and pyjama pants, but it’ll be worth it.

He wakes up to a door being slammed from somewhere downstairs and he’s irritated for a brief second before he registers that it’s Christmas. With a grin he searches for his glasses and slides out of bed, stopping by the bathroom before he follows the voices downstairs.

“Good morning my son,” Catherine gives him a kiss on the cheek and he tries to steal her coffee. “No coffee quite yet, why don’t you go look under the tree?”

“Did St. Nick come?” Phil laughs.

She just hums and heads towards the kitchen.

When he finally enters the family room, he can barely register what he’s seeing before his eyes are welling up with tears and he’s taking long strides over to the tree. 

He considers not doing it, considering he can feel the eyes of everyone in his family on them, but the warmth in his chest is overwhelming. He puts both of his hands on Dan’s face and kisses him squarely. Someone lets out a low whistle. 

“Dan,” He’s almost crying but he can’t stop smiling.

“Phil,” Dan grins. Phil notices the sign taped to his chest that says only 'to Phil'.

“You?” Phil laughs, sitting back on his thighs. His eyes are finally drawn to Dan’s lap. “Holy shit.”

“Do you like her?” Dan strokes the dog in his lap. She’s gold and white and slightly rainbow from the glow of the Christmas lights. 

“Dan, Dan. Dan,” Phil’s laughing, “Can I hold her?”

“Sure, she’s yours. Ours.” Dan’s eyes are wet as he hands her over.

“What’s her name?” Phil accepts the soft licks to his wrist as he strokes her with his other hand.

“She’s called Toffee originally but we can-“

“I like that. Toffee.” Phil grins and finally turns back to his family. “He got me a dog! A dog! With a little red bow!”

“I know, and I’m supposed to top that?” His mum smiles from the doorway, holding her coffee. 

“Dan,” Phil says again, in disbelief, “When did you- how did you?”

“I skyped you from our flat, Phil. I was in the hallway.” Dan’s laughing again and motioning to Martyn, “He ended up driving to get me from the train station at ten thirty last night.”

“Is that why I had to go to bed at nine?” Phil scoffs, “I can’t believe you all knew about this.” 

“So, um, Merry Christmas.” Dan says softly, his eyes asking for another kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” Phil obliges. 

They spend the rest of the Christmas and Boxing Day not moving from one another except to let Toffee out. It’s probably the best Christmas Phil’s ever had, he thinks as they snuggle close on the couch. 

Definitely a very, very merry Christmas.


End file.
